


Taking the Windblade

by Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gags, Handcuffs, Humiliation, Leashes, Pegging, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:07:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves/pseuds/Needs_to_stop_looking_at_valves
Summary: Windblade and Megatron agree to try something different. And Megatron thought he wasn't interested in being restrained.
Relationships: windblade/megatron
Kudos: 17





	Taking the Windblade

**Author's Note:**

> this is for @baybeyza on tumblr! hope you like it!

Megatron had known oppression since the day he was forged. He had fought against it, in battle, on the pages, and in his very spark. He detested being controlled, 'form dictates faction' being a phrase that shook his entire being. He craved freedom, yearned for the ability for free reign. It was why this was...weird. Megatron was awaiting his mate, Windblade, to return home. That in itself was normal, but his nerves were aflame. They had both agreed that they would try something new tonight, and Megatron was setting everything up, just as she requested. He looked over at the list, double checking that he did everything properly. That, and he needed to put his optics on anything but the items in front of him. 

"Primus, Windblade."

He sighed to himself, trying to steady his nerves. She was clever like that, letting him stew and wallow on his own, making him all the more vulnerable for her needs. For such a small, sweet fem, she was truly unfair. He hesitated, before looking at the scene before him. On the coffee table, he had a bottle of oil (a very specific brand heated up to a very specific temperature. Windblade even made him go out to fetch it), a few rags, a riding crop, a lengthy leather leash, some good, strong rope, ballgag, a blindfold, stasis cuffs (he wasn't going to ask why she had that in their closet), and even a soft, fluffy matt for the floor. He knew Windblade wasn't even going to use half of these things. She just wanted him to be paranoid, wanted him to be on edge. And it was working. So much so, he nearly jumped out of his paint upon hearing his comm link go off. He took a moment to make sure his spark hadn’t exploded, then answered. 

“Windblade, I take it you’re off work?”

“Just about, finishing up some paperwork. A fem’s work is never really done.”

“Nothing you can’t handle, of course.”

“Hey, leave all the flattering for tonight, big mech.”

Megatron knew just the face she was making on the other end of the line. Breathe, Megatron, breathe.

“How is Prowl handling you being THIS inappropropriate?”

“Oh he’s hating it. He MIGHT be writing a report on me as we speak. Like he doesn’t sext his harem when thing’s get slow here. I’m telling you, hypocrites, all of them.”

There was some commotion on the other end of the line, and Megatron gave a light chuckle. Sounded about right. 

“I take it you had a nice shift. That’s good, I was honestly worried you’d have a bad day.”

“Thinking about you? Never.”

Megatron tried not to be too flattered, when Windblade reminded him just why he was so nervous just a moment ago.

“Did you get everything on the list?”

“Yes. I have everything here, and I have the oil heated exactly how you asked. Why?”

“Wanted to make sure I didn’t need to make a stop on the way home. Though, I might just pick up something to drink instead.”

“You’re intentionally making me wait, aren't you?”

“You can’t prove anything.”

So, he was right. And they say all autobots are good. Letting her chuckle roam through the call only made a tingle run down his frame.

“Anyhow, I’ll be home soon, I promise.”

He heard her stepping outside of the building, and knew his end was inevitable. 

“I’ll see you when I get home. Love you, Meggy.”

“You know I hate that nickname.”

“I’m not hearing a ‘I love you too’ in that sentence.”

Megatron sighed. For whatever reason, that made him cup his panel, lightly palming himself. Windblade was strict with him, and she wasn’t even here yet. He did love one who had a way with words.

“I love you, Windblade. Don’t take too long, please.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

With a small chuckle, she hung up. He was about to relax, maybe just sit down on the sofa, before his data pad dinged. He pulled it out of his subspace, and saw it was a message from Windblade.

‘Remember. Keep your hands off. You’re MINE.’

Rude little fem. He thought about responding, before shaking his helm. He was going to let her have her way, but that didn’t mean he was going to act like a dog. Even as he glanced at the leash, he kept himself stubborn, if only slightly. He was doomed.

\-------------------

A nervous Megatron was ever vigilant to his surroundings. Even as he pulled out the Carnellion pie (a Caminus recipe he knew she adored) out of the oven, he heard Windblade’s pedes thunk against their stone steps. He was careful to turn off the oven and set the pie upon the cooling rack (he had spent a lot of time at home, so aside from cleaning, he had grown fond of baking and other such activities), and went for the door, just in time to open up for Windblade. She chuckled at seeing him in his apron, still not used to the old warlord doing something so domestic. She gestured at the bag she was carrying, and he took the hint, plucking it from her hands.

“I didn’t know I was gone long enough for you to make something. Smells really good in here.”

“Had to do SOMETHING besides waiting on you like some spark puppy. Couldn’t very well just sit on the sofa and wait.”

“Would've been cute though.”

She shrugged. He was going to say something, anything to soothe his nerves about the whole situation, when she pressed herself against him, wiping some of the mix off of his cheek. She raised a brow at him, suspicious.

“Hmm..you wouldn’t have, oh I dunno, made me some Carnellion pie?”

“My, someone is self centered today, aren’t they? I don’t recall being with Starscream.”

“Oh don’t you DARE.”

She chuckled, pretending as if she didn’t realize how intently he watched her suck the substance from her finger. Not his fault she had just the softest ruby red lips. Who wouldn’t crave that? (truth be told, that might've been why he made that pie, because the color so closely resembled those lips, and he was well aware just how intently he was thinking about them). She walked past him into the kitchen, about to see just how right she was, when she realized just how improper it was, skipping right to dessert. Especially after a main course was right there, on the coffee table. She stopped in her tracks, nearly being knocked over by Megatron (who was following her in hopes to hide the pie, purely because he’s stubborn, possibly just as much as she was), before she turned around, grinning right up at him. She placed her hand on his chest, and took a few steps forward, trying not to get too riled up when Megatron backed up, as if he was scared of her.

And in some sick, tasty irony, he really was.

“You’re right, I’m making this all about me, and completely neglecting you. How awful of me.”

Before Megatron knew it, his knees met with the soft mat on the floor, and she was standing above him, lips curled into a smile. To anyone else, it’d look soft, gentle. But Megatron knew better. She was going to absolutely ruin him, and he was embarrassed to admit that he was VERY much ready for it. She leaned down, and lightly held his chin, making sure his gaze was for her, and her alone. 

“How about we save dessert for after? I’ve been so mean to you all day, I can tell you’re suffering.”

He was going to speak, when his mouth suddenly felt sticky, unable to properly move. She gave him a light pat on his cheek, as if knowing exactly what he was intending to say. She reached over to the counter, hand wavering over all the items, as if she wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted. Even here, now, saying she’d finally treat him right, she was still teasing him oh so cruelly. She seemed to finally settle on the leather collar and leash, inspecting it in her hands. Seeming satisfied, she leaned down, and carefully clipped the collar around his neck, and attached the leash to it. With no warning, she gave it a firm yank, tightening its grip around his throat, and nearly pulling him off of the mat. He always seemed to forget just how strong his little lady was, and it never ceased to amaze him. 

“Does it hurt?”

“Not enough for me to stop you."

He tried not to sound so excited, but primus knows how long ago it was, being treated so roughly. It was something only his old diaries and old partners were aware of. Unlike most gladiators, he wasn't one to boast about his wants and desires. Fortunately for him, Windblade was much like he was, in more than personality.

"Good. Now, let's see what I can do. A big, beautiful gladiator like you can definitely handle a bit more than most, I'm sure."

Megatron was used to degradation during things like this, and to find comfort in such weakness, was honestly foreign to him. It felt...different. He wasn't sure if he appreciated being treated so tenderly, when Windblade yanked the leash upward, nearly forcing him up on his pedes. With him lifted up, leather tightening around him even further, she used her pede to click open his valve panel, lightly scoffing as fluids poured from his panel, right onto her pede. She yanked him forward now, nearly choking him in the process, before she rubbed her pede against his valve, eliciting a small shudder from the other.

"You really were in agony, waiting for me. You were being so patient, like a good mech."

That was when Megatron realized something. Her words were sweet as mercury sauce, but her touch was firm, relentless. She spoke to him as a lover, yet she treated him as a criminal. It was a wonderful blend of affection, to which Megatron couldn't resist only being further aroused. He lightly grinded against her pede, but just as he was getting into it, she pulled away, making him whine audibly. She looked at her pede, and scowled at the hot, thick fluid that coated it. She pushed it against his face.

"Since you're such a good mech, clean me up."

He was a bit ashamed to admit that he jumped for the opportunity, holding her heel, and slowly dragging his glossa along her pede, lapping up the mess he made. She lightly stroked his helm, lightly humming. 

"What a good, handsome mech I have here. Clean it up, just like that. If you do a good job, I'll give you something nice."

Windblade seemed slightly taken aback, given the way her breath hitched, before she quickly recovered, giving his helm a pat. He finished his duty by kissing her heel, and carefully lifted her heel up, as if presenting it to her. She glanced at it, and nodded, seeming satisfied.

"Not too bad. You left some streaks, but not too bad."

He would've rolled his optics, had his gaze not fallen on the direction of her hand. She had clicked open her spike panel, lightly stroking herself, forcing little beads of fluid from its head. 

"Now, let's give you a proper reward."

She didn't give him the chance to respond, pressing herself forward, and forcing her spike past his lips. While her spike suited her frame, slender and thin, the forcefulness of the action more than made up for it. She yanked at the leash again, causing the leather to pull at his metal.

“Suck.”

While one might see this as the opposite of a reward, Megatron was more than happy to accept his trophy, holding onto her hips, and lightly pushing herself back and forth, wasting no time in slobbering over her. She chuckled, lightly running her hand down his helm, only ushering him further. She tossed her helm back in content, not expecting him to be so ravenous. Hell, he was causing drool to spill from his lips, down his chin, onto the floor. As much as her moans tempted to get in the way, she refused to not give him what he deserved.

“That’s what I love about you, Megahead. You genuinely try so hard for me. You could’ve just demanded that I suck you off, demanded you frag my valve. Yet here you are, sucking my spike a good, sweet mech you are. Not to mention we have a new talent for that mouth of yours, aside from poetry.”

She held onto his helm, and slowly pushed his helm away, watching as his lips stayed open, as if eager for more. She held onto the spike, smearing it across his cheek. While it was a little crude, she did always have the fantasy of Megatron at her feet, fluids all over his features as he submitted to her. He didn’t seem to complain, given how he merely panted, and pressed against it, eager to give her what she pleased. It was amusing, watching him trying to swallow her up again once it grazed over his lips. His face was sicky, dripping, desperate. Who knew the old warlord would be so interested in being made into a submissive fool. She let her spike rest upon his face, slightly shaking her helm.

“You want to make me overload, don’t you, Megatron?”

He gulped, nodding. He looked up at her, chest heaving, body pouring out steam, and frame hot as hellfire.

“I would like to make you overload, my mistress, please.”

Now THAT was a name she could get behind. That name alone satisfied her, and she yanked the least again, forcing him to take her spike in fully. Almost instantly, she overloaded, lightly swearing as she forced her load down his throat. She waited until she came down from her high (at least enough for her to fully control her arms), before softly pulling out, watching residual overload slowly drip from her tip, and onto his face. He swallowed, and even went so far to lean up, and lick up the spike, catching the bead of fluid from dripping onto the floor. She gave the leash a hard yank, effortlessly forcing him to his pedes. She looked down at him, and tried not to chuckle, settling for hiding her smirk behind her hand. Megatron had overloaded, and his fluids not only soaked his valve, but cascaded down his thighs, staining his metal. Her spike twitched at the sight, and she immediately knew what she wanted. She gestured to the sofa, and pulled him to the side, forcing his body onto the furniture.  
It was amazing, what some leather and determination could do against a fierce warrior. She reached to the coffee table, and plucked the stasis cuffs. She crawled on top of him, and before he could process it, his hands were tied to the arm rests, leaving them completely useless above him. She learned down towards him, lightly tapping her servo against his lips.

“Now, I’m going to give you a special treat, since you’ve been a good mech.”

He was about to ask what she meant by that, before she scooted a bit lower, and pushed her spike inside of him. You would think, given the massive size difference, that Megatron wouldn’t even feel her, but Megatron was so overstimulated, so aroused, that one servo would've been enough for him to absolutely lose it. Anything would work for him at this point, just as long as SHE touched him. As she started to move her hips, as she started to almost make him light headed with her grip on his leash, he could only look upon her as an angel. An aggressive, firm, magnificent angel. Before Windblade could say anything, Megatron couldn’t help himself, wanting to fully show his adoration.

“You are incredible. You are so beautiful, so forceful, so firm, so-mmph!”

He was going to continue, before his mouth was stuffed with the ballgag. She tied it firmly, making sure it was going to stay there, and strain against him. She sighed, lightly patting his chest.

“Look, Megan, don’t get me wrong, that was really sweet, but primus sake, you need to shut up, and let me frag this big, pretty valve of yours. So, you need to keep quiet, enjoy, and let me overload in you.”

He could tell his cheeks were aflame, and all he could do was nod. He couldn’t tell her no, ball gag or not. She, through a lot of effort, brought his legs over her shoulders (as heavy as his entire frame was, this fem could move mountains if she really wanted to), and ignored the overwhelming weight, starting to push herself in and out of his valve. She did well to keep her composure thus far, but she was starting to falter. It wasn’t her fault, his valve was so huge, so wet, and oh so tight, practically constricting her spike as she continued to frag him. She had bitten her bottom lip, and both steam and moans erupted from her. She peered down at him, and he wasn’t faring much better, bucking his hips against her, wanting to not only please her, but to get more of that valve. His face was so flushed, his optics were so needy, she wanted to absolutely blow his mind. She wrapped the leash around her fist, and yanked, nearly making the poor thing gag. With her free hand, she stroked at his chest, in clear adoration. She even managed to, despite being so close to overload, smile upon him with pure warmth, only helping her words coo even more softly. 

“You deserve to be told just how wonderful you are. You deserve to be told how much I very much love you.” 

Megatron could tell he was whining past his gag, and honestly, she was surprised she didn’t crack the gag, with how forcefully he was biting down on it. He looked so helpless, and Windblade felt almost sadistic, having as much fun as she was having. She turned her head, pecking the thighs, and leaving red lipstick marks in her wake. 

“You’re so talented, I love your poetry, I love the way you look at me when I come home, I love how you support me daily,”

She halted, watching him sink further into the sofa. If there was any chance of him standing up for himself, or her holding any mercy, it was long since gone, leaving behind only a weak, condensation coated mech. It got only cuter as he whined, her hips only speeding up in her movements, causing a cacophony of clanging, as well as symphony of wet, squishing sounds. He was so very close, she could feel it in his valve, could see it in his optics, could hear it from the muffled cries, could even sense it from the hitch of the other’s exhaust. And yet, she persisted.

“I love everything about your frame too. I love your smooth face, I love your optics, I love how big your frame is,”

She continued, her hand now rubbing at his pretty red node, only making him almost thrash against her.

“I love your big, tight valve, I love how you clench around me, I love how you beg for me to frag you, even without being able to talk,”

He was trembling now, metal rattling so violently, she thought he’d just fall apart. 

“I love how I know just when you’re going to overload, I love how as sweet as you are, you absolutely love it as rough as I can give it to you.”

She was rubbing at his valve so quickly, so roughly, it was as if she was trying to file down his metal, forcing him to throw his helm back, and overload, almost forcing his partner to do the exact same. She stopped, letting him go through his second climax, barely fighting off her own. Once he recovered, at least enough for him to online his optics, he gazed up at her, as if he was begging for mercy. She knew better however, than to mistake that for mercy. It was begging for more. He was merciless like that, and she was just as ruthless to indulge him. She chuckled, and kept her thrusts, causing his face to melt in blissful, overstimulated agony.

“And I love, absolutely adore, how much of me you can handle. You could take hours of abuse, couldn’t you?”

She undid his gag, and tossed it to the side, causing him to spit up built up saliva. He nodded eagerly at her, thrusting himself against her as harshly as he could, refusing to even think of the damage this could cause to either of them.

“Y-yes my mistress! I swear, I’ll take EVERYTHING you have for me!”

She gave his node a pinch, causing his back to arch as he cried out, almost being forced to overload.

“I’m sorry, what was that, Megs? Say it again, louder. What am I?”

“M-my mistress!”

“That’s exactly what I want to hear. Now,”

She yanked the leash forward, only making him exclaim yet again, his third overload coming back with full force, with her not ceasing in her fury, leaning up to him, and lightly pecking his forehead.

“Make your mistress overload inside of you.”

\-------------

“You know you’re getting better at making this.”

“Thank you. Sorry again for the ice cream, I’m still learning there.”

She lifted her spoon, watching the liquid drip down onto the rest of her pie.

“This was ice cream? I thought it was some weird sauce.”  
“Hey, I'm learning.”

Megatron huffed. As pouty as the sentence was, he was more than content. They were sitting on the sofa, tv playing white noise in the back, plates of pies in their laps. Megatron was barely able to coordinate his hands, slightly shaking as he scooped the piece of pie into his mouth. It was hard to move with a valve stuffed full of overload, not to mention his body was weak and soaked in condensation, and even now, transfluid all over his face. The second their tanks ran empty, Windblade just up and grabbed them pie. He was honestly wondering if that was on her mind the entire time. Figured she had an ulterior motive, loving him for his pies. She leaned against him, and poked his nose with her spoon.

“You know what I really love about you, Megatron?”

“Windblade, I don’t think I can stand to go another ro-”

She pecked the side of his face, before resting her body on him fully, sighing.

“Just how much I adore being with you.”

The silence between them was peaceful, lovely. Megatron took another bite, and realized something.

Love was very sweet.

**Author's Note:**

> the reference to the pie Megatron made can be found right here!; https://my-writings-and-musings.tumblr.com/post/187882691211/ive-rediscovered-my-love-for-drawing-cybertronian


End file.
